


Push

by GKingOfFez



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Art, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Jedi Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GKingOfFez/pseuds/GKingOfFez
Summary: “Is he… meditating? Isn’t he heavy?” Sabine questioned, leaning up against the doorway and crossing her arms, looking down on Kanan and Ezra.She’d probably been right before- Jedi training must have always been this weird to watch as an outsider, if strange things like this were any kind of example.





	Push

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr. It was so cute I had to write it????
> 
> Edited 24/06/18: Did a small read through and fixed/improved a few things because someone has offered to do a podfic of this story. Will link when the podfic is up! :)
> 
> Edit 30/06/18: Podfic is up! https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101819

_“Kanan? Are you **sure** this is a Jedi training thing, or are you just trying to mess with me?” _

Ezra’s haughty voice echoed across the hall and through Sabine’s open door, and Sabine herself could only roll her eyes instinctively. In her mind she could almost picture Ezra’s folded arms and stubborn expression that usually accompanied that particular tone; _man_ that kid loved to complain sometimes.

She _would_ have closed her door to shut out the annoying distraction, but her latest wall mural was still half-finished and the paint fumes had been building up to an uncomfortable level in the confines of her room. If it was a choice between Ezra and passing out from fume overexposure again, she sadly had to go with the first- although it was a close call.

_“ **No** Ezra, it’s not a trick.” _

Sabine snorted as she imagined Kanan pinching at his temple in frustration.

_“My master and I did this exercise when I was your around your age. Like I’ve said, meditation is a vital part of connecting to the Force, and you need to be able to focus solely on that inward connection while tuning out what’s happening around you.”_

_“But Kanan I’ve only **just** been able to do it sitting still, how am I going to be able…?!”_

Ezra’s voice became quieter, less sure, and Kanan’s reply in turn was soft enough that Sabine couldn’t pick it up through the barrier of Kanan’s bedroom door. Sabine had witnessed enough of the two’s more tender conversations to know not try to listen further both out of a respect of their privacy and the fact that it simply didn’t bother her.

As long as it didn’t affect her in any meaningful way, what was discussed between Jedi was really none of her business.

She swiped at the mural with her spray can, and stepped back to inspect the new line, tilting her head to come at it from several different angles. It hadn’t quite had the effect she was going for.

“Ugh, I k _new_ neon green was the wrong move,” she muttered to herself, flicking a stray hair out of her face.

The piece was _supposed_ to be a dynamic whirlwind of colour representing Hera in the cockpit of the _Ghost_ in the middle of a battle, but so far it hadn’t been meshing together as well as Sabine had hoped. Flicks of orange, white and green paint covered her oversized painting coveralls, and a fume headache was scratching at the base of her skull. She took several steps back and popped her spine, groaning in relief as the vertebrae released their built up tension. It was time for a break.

 _“I’m telling you, this isn’t going to work,”_ came Ezra’s voice again.

“You can say that again,” Sabine muttered to herself, eyeing her ‘supposed’ masterpiece. The small blurs of dark grey that were supposed to represent TIE fighters seemed misplaced. The orange of Hera’s flight suit seemed to be the wrong shade entirely. It just wasn’t _working_.

Art was _hard_ sometimes.

Sabine put her spray bottle down on the table beside the others and pulled off her stained painting gloves. The air in the corridor immediately smelt so much clearer when she stepped out into it. She moved down the hall towards the common room.

_“I’m telling you right now, Kanan, I’m gonna be too heavy for you.”_

_“Ezra, would you just quit complaining for once and just get on my back?”_ replied Kanan’s slightly frustrated voice.

Sabine paused mid-step and looked curiously to Kanan’s closed door up the corridor. _That_ didn’t sound like their usual training dialogue, not that training to be a Jedi was _usual_ for anyone nowadays.

She briefly wondered if Jedi training had always been this weird to observe by outsiders. Sometimes she would walk by and see both Master and Padawan sitting silently in meditation, and then pass again hours later to see that neither had moved a muscle in the interim; sometimes it involved she, Zeb and Chopper shooting stun blasts at Ezra to deflect with his saber, and of course _no one_ would soon forget that memorable training session that had ended with Chopper pushing Ezra off the _Ghost_ while it was parked in the lower atmosphere; and then there were times like this, with overheard weird snatches of conversations that probably made more sense with the proper context.

It probably _had_ been just as weird in the days of the Jedi Order, although back then there had been hundreds of other padawans being trained in the exact same way to make it the norm.

Not for the first time though, Sabine found herself glad she wasn’t Force sensitive. Sure, telekinesis and seeing the future _was_ cool, but nothing beat her ingrained warrior instincts and the design and power of her trusty blasters. Well, a lightsaber _kind of_ did, but that was beside the point; the proud Mandalorian in her simply refused to acknowledge the Jedi as superior in any shape or form.

She heard Ezra grumble something indeterminable as she shook her head and continued down to the common room, putting the Jedi to the back of her mind and instead hoping that someone had made fresh caff so she wouldn’t have to do it herself.

She found Zeb and Hera sitting in the booth and eating pieces of meiloorun, and after a trip to the galley, was drawn into an extended conversation on the Kessle Run and the mathematics behind how quickly a pilot could race it without being caught in time distortion. It was fun to play-argue with Hera while Zeb scratched his head in confusion, and by the time Sabine wandered back to her room, stomach full of caff and fruit, her headache was gone.

She remembered that strange Jedi conversation again only when she passed Kanan’s door.

Shrugging, she walked over to it and tilted her ear to the metal. It was quiet, except for the occasional grunt and loud exhale.

After a moment’s hesitation and lip biting, her curiosity won out and she knocked softly. Kanan’s voice, perhaps a bit strained, said “Come in, but be quiet.”

Sabine tapped at the controls and the door hissed aside. The lights in Kanan’s room were dimmed, but they were enough to illuminate the strange sight Sabine found on the floor before her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise and her eyes went wide. She had to quickly stuff a fist to her mouth to suppress the urge to giggle.

Kanan was stretched out on the ground facing away from the bunk, legs straight and arms locked in a push-up position, while astride his upper back sat Ezra, cross-legged and face slack.

“Do you need something, Sabine?” Kanan asked, his face turned up at her. Sweat was beginning to glisten on his upper arms and forehead. He had forgone his usual green sweater for a plain black tank top.

Sabine took a moment to compose herself, blinking and swallowing down her humour. “Nothing urgent, Hera just wanted to remind you about the crew briefing later tonight,” she said, not quite keeping the amusement from her voice. Hera had told her no such thing, but it was a good enough excuse to have knocked in the first place.

“Ah, thanks,” replied Kanan. He carefully bent his arms at the joint, dipping down and then back up again in a push up. Ezra tittered slightly at the movement, but settled again after a few seconds.

“Is he… meditating? Isn’t he heavy?” Sabine questioned, leaning up against the doorway and crossing her arms, looking down on Kanan and Ezra.

She’d probably been right before- Jedi training must have _always_ been this weird to watch as an outsider, if strange things like this were any kind of example.

“It’s an exercise. And, yeah, he’s maybe a little heavier than expected. Nothing I can’t handle though, and if anything it’s a good thing. Remember how small he was when we found him?” Kanan said quietly, dipping down again.

Sabine nodded, biting at her lip. It seemed unfair to laugh, but the urge was still strong in her.

Kanan did another push up, and Ezra _hmmed_ , but didn’t stir.

An idea stuck Sabine suddenly. “Hang on, keep doing this, I’ll be right back,” she declared, grinning and flying from the room. She rushed across the hall to her own quarters, ignoring the paint and the half-done mural in favour of scrambling around for some sketching pencils and a pad of paper.

Kanan looked at her curiously as she re-entered his room.

“Can I?” she grinned, with the best loth-puppy eyes she could muster, brandishing her art supplies at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and then frowned in consideration, before sighing.

“I suppose, if you’re really feeling _that_ inspired. Just don’t disturb him, okay?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Sabine whispered in excitement, punching the air. She closed the door behind her and carefully stepped around the edges of the room, searching for the best angle to come at the scene from. She ended up sitting cross legged on the cushioned stool beside Kanan’s bed and spread out her supplies and pad across her knees.

“And don’t make me look like a fool, please,” Kanan added, as she picked out a good pencil to start.

She snorted down at him. “You? Never.”

Kanan smirked, then his face returned to a scrunched up, concentrated look.

Sabine took a long, calculated look at her subjects, then bent over and began scribbling. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Ezra’s even breaths, Kanan’s occasional grunt, the scratching of pencils and an occasional muffled snort from Sabine. She was trying really hard not to burst out into laughter, but the hilarity of the situation kept coming at her in waves.

The central piece she worked on was a semi-realistic illustration- Kanan, strong and steady and Ezra, still and calm upon his back. She worked in the shading of the dimmed lights and the glistening sweat on Kanan’s forehead, aiming for realism but working in her own cartoonish style as well.

She also sketched out several other, far sillier drawings on a separate piece of paper. Among them was a caricature of Kanan with comical sized muscles, grunting and pumping up and down at a ridiculous speed, with Ezra the size of an insect on his back; one of the both of them as Loth-cats, the Loth-Ezra curled up and purring on Loth-Kanan’s furry brown back; and (for good measure) one of Ezra flopping right off Kanan’s shoulders and landing face first in an undignified heap on the floor.

The loth-cat one was her favourite of the bunch.

Sabine also found herself quite proud of the main piece, even if it was far from finished and more of a messy, scratchy draft than anything else. She particularly felt like she’d caught the dynamic power of the lines in Kanan’s shoulders and the essence of Ezra’s meditative expression. She would clean and colour the sketch when there was time later on, but for the moment she held it up with a wide, proud smile, angling it into the light and blowing away the small strands of white eraser debris. She could already tell the finished product would be one of her better ones.

Sabine gathered up her supplies and folded the paper with the silly sketches on it in two. She wrote Ezra’s name on it, adding a heart for dramatics and left it on the stool for the kid to find when he came out of his trance.

With her main piece, she stepped forward, crouched and wordlessly placed it on the ground before Kanan. It was a show of trust more than anything- she, like a lot of artists, didn’t like showing off unfinished pieces. It just didn’t seem right to put something out for the galaxy to see that wasn’t polished up to a standard that truly reflected her skill.

Kanan, however, had earned it. They’d saved each other’s lives so many times over the years, had each other’s backs through the good and the bad, and as much as Sabine would never admit it out loud, Kanan had become something of a father-figure to her. Even if he _was_ a Jedi who used really weird training practices that were as hilarious as this.

Besides, the guy probably deserved it. She’d pity anyone who had to carry Ezra on their shoulders, literally _or_ figuratively.

Kanan looked over her work, his shoulders shaking with exertion as he paused mid-pushup. After a moment, he grinned proudly up at her in approval and she smiled back, feeling the familiar swell of pride that usually arose whenever her _Ghost_ family showed how much they loved and supported her art. She picked up the sketch again and tiptoed out with a wave of farewell, returning to her room.

As soon as she was inside and the door had shut behind her, she burst into quiet laughter, which she only half-heartedly stifled.

 _Only kriffing Jedi,_ she thought fondly.

The paint fumes had almost entirely dissipated. Still chuckling, she pulled a protective folder from a shelf and carefully placed her sketch in it to work on a later point.

For now though, there was still time before dinner and the crew briefing, so Sabine turned back to her newest mural and looked it over with a renewed eyes. She pulled her gloves on again.

“Hmm, maybe neon green _is_ the right choice, and I just need to be _bolder_ with it,” she mused to herself, picking up the spray can and approaching the wall.

* * *

“You couldn’t have _asked_ _me_ before you let her do this?” Ezra asked, accusingly. “It’s bad enough that I had to do that ridiculous exercise, but you let _Sabine_ see me doing it as well?”

Kanan stood by his bunk wiping the sweat from his neck with a towel, while Ezra frowned down at the piece of paper Sabine had left for him. A flush of embarrassment clung at his cheeks.

 “You were deep in meditation; there wouldn’t have been any point in bringing you out of it just to ask one question. Besides, if anything the extra distraction _added_ to the exercise and you did very well to remain focussed.”

Ezra smirked a little at the praise, and then his face fell back into a scowl. “Yeah, but was it really worth it? She made us into cuddling _lothcats,_ how humiliating is that?”

“What?” Kanan wandered over and took the paper from Ezra’s hands. He frowned at it as well. “I specifically asked her _not_ to make me look like a fool.”

“ _You_ look fine. _I’m_ the one she drew as a fool,” moaned Ezra.

“Well, at least the drawings are realistic in _that_ sense,” Kanan replied with a grin. He tussled Ezra’s hair playfully, and Ezra let out a squeak of protest. “Come on, kid, it’s almost time for dinner and I’m gonna have a shower first. You go see if Hera needs anything done before the briefing.”

Ezra nodded and snatched the paper back.

“What? It’s addressed to me!” he said in reply to Kanan’s lifted eyebrow. He dashed out the door, Kanan shaking his head fondly in the kid’s wake.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this from Sabine’s POV bc I have DEFINITELY been neglecting all the other characters except Kanan and Ezra. 
> 
> What’s that, you say? Kanan and Ezra are still a lot of the focus of this fic? Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I know, but I can’t leave them alone.


End file.
